


C is for Chicken Soup

by KateKintail



Series: The ABC Series 2006 [3]
Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-03
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 01:45:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/668850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Don emerged from the bathroom and immediately his attention was drawn across the room to where his brother suddenly was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	C is for Chicken Soup

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a collection of short H/C ficlets (they were supposed to be drabbles but I'm terrible at writing short things) from various fandoms. I asked on one of my LiveJournals for one word for each letter of the alphabet, as well as a fandom and/or pairing.

Don emerged from the bathroom and immediately his attention was drawn across the room to where his brother suddenly was. Charlie was half-sitting on the edge of a desk, one leg still straight and the other bent and partially resting on the desk. His arms were crossed over his chest and he cocked his head when he saw Don.   
  
Don headed over, rubbing at his nose on the way so that he looked and sounded presentable. "Hey, Charlie. What are you doing here? Did someone call you to consult on a case?"  
  
Shaking his head, "No, they called me about you." He reached down and picked up the square tissue box, eyeing it, then he looked at Don over the tissue which came up through the top. "They tell me you're sick and won't go home."  
  
"I have a case to work. I can't just let that go because I have a little head cold," explained Don reasonably. Then he reached for the tissue in the box and folded it over his nose. "YihhShoo! IhhhChoo!"   
  
"Gesundheit. Actually, I've told you have more than a little head cold and that your team's working the investigation fine. They say you should go home." Don helped himself to two more from the box.   
  
"Look, Charlie, I appreciate the concern but I'll be all right."   
  
Charlie shrugged. "You really should go home."  
  
Don laughed. He hardly ever went home, and though he had to admit his bed did seem pretty attractive right now, it could wait a little while. "What do you know about it? You're a mathematician, not a doctor." He rubbed at his nose, sniffing. He wasn't going to let his little brother talk him into taking a sick day when there was work to be done and he really wasn't all *that* sick.  
  
Charlie gave him a look and withheld the tissues just as Don reached for another.  
  
Sniffling, Don rubbed the back of his hand against his nose. "Maybe after dinner," he finally conceded. "It's meatloaf night tonight, right?" Tonight was one of their family dinners, even though it wasn't always exclusively family; Amita was supposed to be coming to this one tonight.  
  
"Not for you," Charlie replied. "When you're done at work, you should go home." Don tried to object, but Charlie got up and handed the tissue box over. "I don't want to see you at the house. Go home to your place, take some medicine, and get some rest, okay? You're no good to these guys sick."   
  
Don nodded. "See you later, Char."   
  
Charlie headed out with a pat to Don's arm.   
  
*  
  
Don cautiously peeked into the kitchen and saw Charlie at the stove, cooking. Charlie glanced back over his shoulder, not looking the least bit surprised to see Don. Don looked around, expecting to see dinner preparations, but apart from a pot on the stove, there was no evidence that it was nearly seven o'clock on a family dinner night.   
  
"We ate at six," Charlie said, reading his brother's mind. "You were supposed to be at your apartment sleeping by now so we didn't wait for you."  
  
"Yeah," Don nodded. "I know, but... yihhh... ihhhChuhh! yihhChoo!" Don dug out a tissue; he had stocked his pockets with them earlier. "I remembered I don't have much food in the place and I thought being around family might make me feel better. Clearly I underestimated you all." He sunk into one of the chairs at the kitchen table and blew his nose repeatedly.   
  
He heard some noise of clinking dishes and footsteps coming towards him. Don opened his eyes when he felt a hand on his back to find a bowl on the table in front of him. "What's this?"  
  
"Can't you tell? It's chicken soup," Charlie said, retrieving a spoon and setting it down next to the bowl. "Eat up before it gets cold."  
  
"Wait, you made this for me?" he asked, blinking down at it. He could barely see the broth for all the noodles, pieces of carrots and celery, and the large chunks of chicken. Stem rose visibly from it and he cupped a hand to the bowl to enjoy its warmth. "You were going to bring a thermos of it over to me?"  
  
Charlie shook his head. "I made it because I knew you were going to stop by even though I told you specifically not to. Since when do you listen to me about anything other than math?"   
  
Laughing, Don picked up the spoon. "Since now." He said, digging in before it got cold.


End file.
